


what's done is done

by ichor (sbzpruiosnejre)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Gen, POV Harry Potter, Post-Mad-Eye's Death, Post-Seven Potters, minor betrayal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:38:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22884145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sbzpruiosnejre/pseuds/ichor
Summary: Harry confronts the Order on their shaky plan to evade Voldemort and the Death Eaters, following Mad-Eye's death.Set between Chapter 4: Fallen Warrior and Chapter 5: The Ghoul in Pyjamas.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 15





	what's done is done

Mad-Eye was dead.

That thought continued to spiral across his mind like a thousand bees following just to sting him. Every knock at the door or murmur from the kitchen reminded him that Mad-Eye Moody, the only person the Order had left who could think in the way that Death Eaters did, the grizzled Auror who had seemed impossible to kill… wasn’t coming back. That shock hung in the Burrow and weighed heavily on their shoulders. Mealtimes were quiet, split by the twins who’d found a thousand and one different jokes to make about George’s missing ear. 

It wasn’t the only thing dragging down Harry’s mood. The thought of the horcruxes and his inability to finish the task Dumbledore had started bubbled, but it wasn’t alone in the festering storm of his depression.

Two days after the escape from Privet Drive, Harry woke up early, before dawn it seemed, to the distant voices of Kingsley, Lupin, and Mr Weasley. Climbing out of his makeshift bed on Ron’s bedroom floor, he crept down the creaky stairs and paused halfway down. The kitchen door was slightly ajar, and from it came the deep voice of the Auror.

“There’s still no sign of him. They must be biding their time more than we expected.”

‘Him’ could only mean Mad-Eye. Bill had told them yesterday morning that, between the darkness and lack of idea of where Mad-Eye had fallen, it was near impossible to find him. That, or the Death Eaters had made sure to clean up after themselves. Harry gripped the banister, his knuckles flushing white.

“The plan wouldn’t have worked without Mad-Eye at the helm,” sighed Lupin. “We may have injured five of them, possibly killed two, but they have so many still. Without Mad-Eye rallying the other Aurors, what can we do? No offence, Kingsley, but—”

“I know.” Kingsley sounded strained. “Once again, we’re outnumbered.”

Harry took a step down, but it creaked. Incoherent whispers followed, and then the door promptly shut. He figured it would have been warded too, but that didn’t stop him from walking over and pressing his ear against it. Nothing, not a sound. Fine. He tried the handle, and found it unlocked.

Mr Weasley looked up sharply from the table. The three sat together, mugs at their hands. It would have looked quite ordinary if not for the bags beneath their eyes, the creases in their faces, the haunted looks in their eyes. “Harry—”

“You should go back to bed,” Lupin cut in.

“I heard you talking.” Harry shut the door behind him and drew up a chair, ignoring Lupin’s sharp look. He wasn’t his teacher anymore. “What was the plan?” All three seemed to avoid looking at him. “What plan needed Mad-Eye to lead it?” Again, they didn’t speak. His anger rose, biting at him. “Tell me! I’m not a child anymore. Dumbledore said I was the best hope we have, didn’t he?”

Lupin stared at the table. “The Death Eaters usually reinforce their numbers by Imperiusing others, you know that.”

“Like Stan Shunpike, yeah.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Lupin just nodded. “Mad-Eye thought we could rally some of the other Aurors, ones who were more likely to resist the Imperius Curse. If we could draw out the Death Eaters and kill some of those controlling others, we could cut down their numbers.”

“How would you draw them out?”

He’d only just asked the question when it clicked. They’d said they couldn’t have transported him out of his aunt and uncle’s, but why had they needed to take him so far? Why not Mrs Figg’s? Why had they needed seven of him at all? They could have just escorted him as a team, stuck together and protected one another better. Mad-Eye needn’t have died.

“You used us as bait.” He stared at them, three faces written over with guilt. “You knew the Death Eaters would follow, and you knew Voldemort would come for me as well. Instead of trying to work together, you wanted everyone to split up…”

 _Mad-Eye said he’d expect the real Harry to be with the toughest, most skilled Aurors_. That’s what Tonks had said. And that’s what had happened - Voldemort chasing Mad-Eye first, then switching to Kingsley.

“It wasn’t quite like that,” Kingsley said.

Harry narrowed his eyes. “Wasn’t it?”

Mr Weasley looked more uncomfortable than he had even after Nagini had attacked him. “Mad-Eye thought that with two Aurors, we’d have a chance of taking out some of the Death Eaters.”

“Preferably some of his inner circle,” Lupin agreed quietly. “Such as the Lestranges… and Snape. We knew most of them would be, like you say, Shunpike. Imperius’d people, innocents under the hood. But if we could take some of them out, they’d be hurt. Pushed to the edge. Hopefully to desperation.” He fidgeted, his shoulders hunching. “Enough that we might have been able to oust Thicknesse and convinced Scrimgeour to take the threat more seriously.”

His anger spiked again. “You used us! We could have been killed - any of us!”

Kingsley stood abruptly, eyes fixing on him. “We did what we could to give us a chance.”

“Nobody would have died if we’d stuck together!”

“You don’t know that.” The Auror shook his head. “Nobody knows what would have happened if the plan had been different.”

“Did you leak the plan deliberately?” The thought made him shudder. Endangering all of their lives when it could have been easier. What had they been thinking? The Order couldn’t be that desperate, even without Dumbledore. They’d fought plenty of Death Eaters before.

Shaking his head, Lupin looked nauseous. “No. No, Harry. We didn’t do that. None of us would have.” He swallowed before turning to him fully. “We didn’t want anybody to die. Splitting up meant the Death Eaters would have to as well. That was Mundungus’ plan, remember. A good way to split them up, make sure that they wouldn’t know which Harry was the real one, and so they couldn’t form their own strategies.”

“But if they did find me, then all of them could have gone on me and Hagrid.”

“Yes, that was a possibility,” he conceded. “But as we saw, they didn’t. They weren’t able to communicate, just as we weren’t.”

“They called Voldemort to follow me when I—”

Lupin raised a hand. “I know. But they couldn’t have pulled all of their forces against you, Harry. There was no right way of doing things, you see? We had to go with the most likely means of keeping you safe.”

Harry looked up at Kingsley, still looming above them, before back to his former professor. “If anyone had been captured, they would have killed them once the Polyjuice Potion wore off.”

“We can’t think about ‘ifs’,” Mr Weasley murmured. “What’s done is done.”

Ifs had always surfaced in his mind. What _if_ he’d saved Dumbledore in time? What _if_ he’d used the mirror to contact Sirius? What _if_ he’d grabbed the Cup instead of persuading Cedric to as well? Even now more exploded in his head, as violent as the pain he’d felt split through his scar. But he held them back, the silence deafening.

Kingsley broke it to announce that he had to go, barely sparing a glance back before leaving the kitchen. Not reacting, Harry stared at the abandoned mug and tried to think of what Dumbledore would have done. Mad-Eye knew what he was doing though. They trusted each other, and now Dumbledore had told Kingsley and Lupin to trust _him_.

“You have to trust me,” Harry said quietly. “That means you have to tell me about things like that.”

“It doesn’t.” His head snapped up, staring in surprise at Mr Weasley. “You would have refused, Harry. There was no other way of getting you out.”

“You couldn’t have consulted Trelawney?” The doubt tasted bitter in his voice. “Maybe she had another prophecy. Or you could have taken me to Mrs Figg’s! Apparated from there even.”

Lupin swapped a look with Mr Weasley. “Divination and prophecies… they aren’t reliable. You know that already. And Mrs Figg’s house couldn’t have been warded without the Death Eaters noticing. They must have been spying on the street, and they would have had time to prepare. That’s what we wanted to avoid.”

He looked like he wanted to say more, but Harry had had enough. Standing, he strode to the door and opened it sharply. Mr Weasley called him back, though it fell on deaf ears. It was all he could do not to storm up the stairs, not wanting to wake any of the others.

In bed, pulling the blankets taut around him, he thought of the horcruxes. The sooner he got out of the Burrow, the quicker he could find them and finish the job. Once they were all destroyed, he’d do it. He’d kill Voldemort, for everyone who’d died to him. Cedric, Mad-Eye, his parents, and all the others. Impatience itched inside him, and for a brief, mad moment he considered getting out of bed, packing up, and going right then.

It took him ages to settle into sleep, head buzzing with ideas on where he’d start and where to go. He fell asleep to thought of Godric’s Hollow.


End file.
